I was so excited for Blanche to get there and see my outfit. I was trying something new, something cooler, and I wanted her approval. I heard a loud knock on the door, and I threw it open to find Blanche. She burst into the room in her usual whirlwind fashion, air kissing and saying hello to everyone. She was wearing a tiny leather miniskirt topped with an oversize shirt and tons of scarves and bangles. I tugged at my short dress awkwardly, wishing she was dressed retro. It was probably over as a style now, she seemed like she would know the next thing before I would anyways. She turned to me and grabbed my hands.
“You look ravishing, dear.” I blushed and stammered a thank you. I was glad she noticed I had tried something new, but I saw Kate roll her eyes. I figured she was just jealous I was getting attention.
“Come to the bathroom with me.” Blanche winked.
We excused ourselves, and I followed her as she hurried down the hall. She pulled out a baggy in the empty bathroom, and shook it back and forth like I was a dog and it was a bone. She backed into a stall, and I followed, taking the bait. I sniffed up two lines, and pinched my nose like I had seen Blanche do. She tossed her head back like a horse, inhaling dramatically. We were laughing when we went back into the room, giggling over my retelling of last nights events. I felt invincible, so I sat close to Marcus on the bed.
“I like your tights.” he said, eyeing my legs. I stretched them out to their full length and looked down.
“I like them too.” I remarked, turning them one way, then the other. I noticed he was looking too, out of the corner of my eye.
“Okay, let’s go to this party already.” I announced to the group. I felt like I was the leader of the night’s festivities, playing hostess. I looked around to the group, and everyone stopped their conversations and started to get up. The sense of power must have been radiating from me, I thought. I slipped into some heels my mom had bought me, which I had sworn never to wear. But tonight I didn’t care if they pushed me over six feet, I wanted to be noticed. I didn’t even feel awkward in them tonight, I felt like I was ten miles high off the ground. We all trooped out of the room, in a raggedy line, and started out across the grass. The walk seemed longer than I remember, and I realized that was because I was wobbling on heels instead of on a skateboard. Blanche caught up to me, linking our arms together. I felt so girlie, and it was something I wasn’t used to.
“So I got you a present.”
“More?” I assume she was talking about drugs.
“Nope, here you go.” she handed me a card, some girl’s ID. Her name was Hannah O’leary. She was 5’11 and looked about two hundred pounds. She had long brown hair and freckles.
“You’re welcome.” Blanche sang out.
“What is this?”
“Your fake, duh. She’s fat so you say you lost weight and dyed your hair. I pad some girl twenty bucks for it in my dorm.”
“She looks nothing like me!” I protested.
“But she’s tall, and has freckles. She looks enough like you I promise.” She seemed sure of herself. “I also got Kate one, Kate, where are you?”
Kate jogged up to us from a little behind, and fake panted.
“What?” she looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“Present for my new frosh buddy.” Blanche held out an ID for her too, some tan girl with dreadlocks.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“It’s you, now, Theresa Connely.”
“Does she look like me?” and she did, actually. Tan, with bright blue eyes, just like Kate’s. Her’s was a better match then mine, but I figured it was hard to get Ids for giraffe girls like me. Plus, they’d look at the shit locks once over and think it was the same girl.
“Oh my god, thank you!” Kate pulled Blanche into an awkward hug, since they were still walking.
“So we’re twenty one tonight?” I asked.
“Memorize those birthdates, ladies.” Blanche advised.
I looked down at the card in my hand, trying to make out the numbers under the lights framing the path.
“Let me see yours.” Kate demanded. I passed it over and she burst out laughing. “She could eat you, Al!”
“I lost weight.” I giggled.
We walked up to the student center, and I got a nervous, paranoid feeling in my stomach. I knew I could get arrested for this, possibly. Or at least written up.
We formed a line, Kate and I at the back, trying to act casual. By the time we got up there, the doorman was so used to checking twenty one IDs that he barely looked at ours. I was elated. Look at us now, West Harlow. Look at us now.